


One-Sentence Two-Step

by escriveine



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28868328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escriveine/pseuds/escriveine
Summary: The One-Sentence Two-Step is my variation on the original form:Step One: A one-sentence story, drawn from a half-remembered dream, an off-hand remark, or other flicker of inspirationStep Two: A companion one-sentence story, as fully-fledged and independent as the first, that offers something moreThanks topopkin16for doing sounding board and beta duty. =)Tags will be updated as new duets get added.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Duchess

There on the storm-lashed pier by Lieutenant Welsh and Inspector Thatcher, Fraser drew himself up to a sodden attention, and with his eyes fixed on the still-smoldering flotsam clutched in his left hand, shouted against the gale, "The Duchess... is gone."

⯆

About the last thing Ray had expected was for Duke’s sleek, urbane wife to kick down the door, snap open a matte black telescoping rod, and lay out half a dozen goons the size of Buicks without so much as mussing her hair, but with the heavies out of the picture, Ray could afford the time to nudge Fraser and murmur, “Say what you want about _deportment_ and _couture,_ but I’m telling you — that Duchess is no lady.”


	2. Whiskey

Ray spit out the sour grit in his mouth and immediately resolved two—no, make that _three_ things: one, to strap another knife someplace easier to reach when he was tied to a freaking chair; b, to sign up for that Houdini escape artist course thing down at the Learning Annex; and third, to never, _ever_ tell Fraser that in a moment of desperation after being roughed up, tied down, knocked out, and locked away someplace pitch black, he'd not only deliberately licked the floor, but that it had _worked_ — and that meant Whiskey Novotny was due for a size 10 kick in the head.

⯆

As the two biggest pains in his bunions poured themselves into the Lieutenant’s office chairs, both reeking like imminent single malt lawsuits, Welsh rubbed at the 36-hour stubble on his jaw, and said, “Can one of you tell me why there’s a wolf puking into my office trashcan when Vecchio’s desk is so conveniently located within staggering distance in the squad room?”


	3. Duck

It was the duck that finally did him in — the little yellow rubber duck sitting between the family photo and _Paradise Regained_ — because he had a hunch it was the same crazy squeaky rubber duck that somehow made it out of the busted shipping crate, through the freezing lake water, and into the lining of his coat just before the first time Benton had called him Ray.

⯆

Diefenbaker pawed at the coat pocket of Exclamation-Mark until it made muffled squeaks, then lolled his tongue in amusement as the human jumped back in a flurry of scents and limbs that made Rescue-Friend leap forward, then turn funny shades, and after what looked like but smelled not-like a fight, they did the thing with their mouths he’d been told was _buddy breathing._


End file.
